Seeing Beyond
by Infinite Stair
Summary: And now, in a stunning plot twist, it turns out to be all about Blank. Make way for Chap. 7, with all improved Tide™ detergent!
1. Blinded

I own Square, and I own you, and I own everybody.  
  
  
  
Seeing Beyond, Chap. 1  
  
  
  
I am Blank.  
  
  
  
"Just give it another turn, Dell!"  
  
The fifteen year-old Dell snorted. On one hand, the propeller hadn't started after ten straight preps and was unlikely to start this time. On the other hand.he was already about as greased up as he could be, his normally white shirt sported interesting hues of murky blues and grays, and the old coot deserved to be humored. He'd been a genius..once.  
  
Dell went ahead and spun the propeller. What the hell. To his amazement, the engine put-puttered, coughed twice, and roared to life, the single propeller blurring into invisibility. The tiny airship, dubbed the Serendipity, shuddered in its clamps, anxious to be off for its first trip in twenty years.  
  
"Well, I'll be damned." Dell stepped back, an incredulous grin cutting through a blackened face. He cast a glance upwards, where the old man was doing a ridiculous victory dance up on the "bridge" of the "airship." Both terms were used loosely, as the entire craft spanned maybe thirty yards from bow to stern. The tiny Skipper-class airboat, designed by Cid VI, saw barely any use anymore.but the old man had acquired this one second-hand somewhere, and had somehow got it to run.  
  
The old man waved wildly. "Come ye, come ye, from far and wide! Geddup here, Dell, she's rarin' to go!" A toothy cackle.  
  
Dell heaved himself over the railing, climbing up the extended ramp that led onto the Serendipity. Squeezing between tightly-packed machinery and the tiny Mist engine, he finally got onto the boat's version of a bridge, a tiny bubble cockpit with two seats.  
  
As he pulled himself into his seat, he couldn't help but grumble fondly at the old man. "She'll never hold together, yaknow.I don't give us three hundred yards before we spiral down into the Cleyra desert."  
  
The old man hardly heard him. Euphoria had set in. Aged fingers dancing over the primitive controls, he retracted the clamps and gunned the engine, and the tiny airship catapulted off into the air above their little home in the Gizamaluke Mountains, separating Burmecia from Lindblum. This was flying for the sheer joy of it, flying for the sake of laughing at the ground and dancing through the clouds.  
  
They drifted about for a while, hugging the mountains, clouds above, Mist below. Dell had always thought the Mist looked so much prettier when viewed from the air. He was in the process of reshuffling his seat when the old man slanted a glance across.  
  
"Care to drive, sonny?" the old man asked slyly, fingers rubbing the control stick.  
  
"Hell yes, old man!" Dell responded. Drive? DRIVE?! Dell lived to fly these things. The old man grinned, and flipped a switch, flipping control over to Dell's side. Immediately, Dell sent the Serendipity into a steep starboard dive, spiraling down into the upper layers of the Mist.  
  
"Whaddya say we buzz Lindblum, eh? S'been years since I've seen the Grand Castle and all those cool ships they're building." Dell had always been fascinated by Lindblum.its technology, it's long succession of innovative regents, and its air-oriented lifestyle. He suspected he had to be from Lindblum.there was no other way to explain the sky in his blood.  
  
Not even waiting for an answer, Dell kicked the airship into high gear and sent them hurtling forward. He was excited as hell. It'd been too damn long since he'd gotten to fly.ever since that "accident" with the Ifrit-class.but that really hadn't been his fault! The damn elevators had jammed, and he'd been in a little bit of a steep dive.he'd managed to save the airship, actually. Well.let's just leave it at he managed to survive.  
  
The Serendipity soared towards Lindblum.  
  
  
  
"Sir!"  
  
"What is it, private!"  
  
"Airship, incoming! Coming straight for us! No clearance!" the Lindblum private's voice soared up into the upper registers. War was not his cup of tea, and the recently-ignited war between Lindblum and Alexandria played hell with his peaceful demeanor.  
  
The Lindblum sergeant was a hard-nosed, scarred man. This was not the first war he'd seen. He moved up behind the private, coolly focusing on the small blip aimed right at them.  
  
He took a deep breath, and turned his back.  
  
"Take it out."  
  
The private jolted. "But, sir! What if.."  
  
"TAKE IT OUT!" the sergeant bellowed. "If it doesn't have clearance, it's an enemy! You understand that, private? We are at WAR! Blow it out of the sky!"  
  
The private swallowed. War really wasn't his cup of tea.  
  
"Y-yes sir."  
  
  
  
"Look, you old fool! The Castle is just ahead!" Dell would've hopped up and down in excitement, but logistics prevented that. Instead, he turned to beam excitedly at his co-pilot, who hadn't spoken much recently.  
  
The old man stirred. "Where are all the airships?"  
  
Dell shook his head in impatience. The airships? Who cared? "They're probably just in for maintenance, or maybe there's a regatta going on over the ocean. How the hell would I know? But lookit! Ain't that castle a beaut? There's the Falcon's Gate!"  
  
The old man started, quite suddenly. He turned to regard Dell, and the boy was startled to see that the old man's eyes held no small measure of fear."  
  
"Turn back, Dell! NOW!" he shouted, apparently forgetting that all he had to do was switch control back to his side.  
  
Dell blinked. "What? What're you talking about? Turn back? We just got here! Look, man, there's the ca-OH, SHIT!!!!!!!"  
  
For Dell had indeed turned to look at the castle, and what he saw was the potent barrage of a MK II Lindblum Magicannon, firing deadly Fire blasts and monsters. Dell flung the ship into a steep turn, just as the first blazes of energy shot past them.  
  
"Goddamn! Why the hell're they shooting? What're they thinking? You wanna take over, old man?" But the old man was frozen, hands trembling, eyes riveted on the incoming projectiles. Dell swore loudly, and flung the old boat into a sickening loop of evasive maneuvering. All around them, cannon fire rattled the little boat from a series of near misses.  
  
"Don't worry, old man, they could hit a Theatre Ship with the kind of flak they're putting up." Dell said, trying very hard to decide who he was reassuring. But, indeed, the intensity seemed to be lessening as they rocketed away from Lindblum. Mere seconds later, the barrage suddenly stopped.  
  
Dell turned to eye the old man, with a cocky grin. "Y'see, old man? No problem. Why, I could outmaneuver those guys in my sle-"  
  
And then the Homing Bomb hit.  
  
And so the airship plummeted downwards.  
  
And so it hit.  
  
  
  
He awoke, and immediately regretted it. Pain lanced through every nerve he owned. His body, quailing in indignation, decided to flop back to unconsciousness.  
  
He awoke again, the pain significantly reduced. He was in some kind of makeshift hammock, it felt like, and the searing pains were reduced to dull throbbings.. Suddenly, he was hit with a multitude of mental questions.  
  
"Who am I?"  
  
"Where am I?"  
  
"Why can't I see?"  
  
His brain, unable to deal with the combined physical and mental agony, promptly stepped out again, and he lapsed into merciful nothingness.  
  
He awoke, a third time. None of the questions were answered.he still didn't know who he was, he still didn't know where he was, and he still couldn't see.  
  
He flinched in his hammock when he heard a voice. A middle-aged man, it sounded like. "We found ye, 'alf dead, out in th' forest. S'a miracle ye're alive a' all. Wha's yer name, boy?"  
  
The boy closed unseeing eyes, searching for answers. "I.I dunno.everything's a total blank."  
  
  
  
Yeah, review it if you like, read it if you like, eat tofu if you like! Just be real, okay?  
  
All words by me are copyrighted by me, and if you use them, I'll be very, very displeased. 


	2. Bespectacled

Nota Con Queso: I still own all of you. Everyone in the world is copyrighted by me. What're you looking at? Get back to work.  
  
  
  
Seeing Beyond, Chapter 2.  
  
I am Blank.  
  
  
  
"Scan, Blank," the lithe, mocha-skinned woman commanded. Her too-long-for- combat nails stroked the blade of her rapier, as the two of them stood at one of the numerous side entrances into Alexandria castle.  
  
"Sure, Becca." Blank tossed a quick leer her way before triggering the Scan magick function on his "glasses." Only the third prototype ever developed, Regent Cid's little toy enabled Blank to see.in a slightly different manner than most. It's common knowledge around Gaia that every lifeform has a magical "signature", a distinct magical aura that permeates and interacts with the environment around them.  
  
Blank's visor, however, was the first invention that integrated that concept into something practical. Capable of viewing said magical signature, it gave Blank a thoroughly unique and interesting way of looking at the world around him. His vision was a mass of swirling auras that'd seemed overwhelming, at first, but he'd since learned to interpret.  
  
Regent Cid called it a FarSight Optical Disc. Rebecca called it the Blobvision 3000.  
  
Blank peered through the door, registering the auras behind. Sightless eyes narrowed in contemplation behind his visor as he checked every nook and cranny. Finally, he nodded in satisfaction and gave Rebecca the thumbs up.  
  
"All clear, toots," Blank confirmed. "And, if I may say so, that leather combat outfit looks simply stunning on you."  
  
Rebecca rolled her eyes, moving into position with the lockpicks. At twenty-two, she was one of the youngest members of the Black Omega, Lindblum's elite intelligence force. Paired with the youngest member, she did her best to keep her mind on the job while brushing off Blank's advances. Rebecca was business first, and pleasure never. It was her job.  
  
Blank couldn't actually see the combat outfit, but knew she was wearing it. And her aura was good enough.a melodious swirl of greens and blues that made him smile every time he looked at her. And, sometimes, when he'd brushed past her in a tight corridor.  
  
"Blank! Yo, Cyclops!" Rebecca was getting annoyed, now. Blank jerked his head around, saw that she'd already gotten the door open. "Stop fantasizing and start working. This Extraction Chamber should be below the castle." She turned on her heel and disappeared through the doorway, rapier whispering along behind. Blank drew his special-issue katana, slung it across his shoulder, and followed her in.  
  
The inside of the castle was what you'd expect.lots of lush potted plants and tinkling fountains, white-washed walls, blah, blah, blah. Blank and Rebecca worked their way through the halls, occasionally pausing in the shadows to let one of the (hot, Blank had to admit) guards go by. As they wound deeper into the catacombs of the castle.the irritating cheeriness of the place began to disappear, to be replaced with roughly-hewn stone and dripping moss. The air got danker, the moisture in the air heavier, and Blank's running commentary more and more bitter.  
  
"Yesiree, mission of the highest importance, top priority, absolute Code Zero. Go to Alexandria Castle and discover the secrets of the Extraction Chamber. Go to Alexandria and get lost in a maze of god-forsaken tunnels. Go to Alexandria and do not get laid by any of the guards. Go to Alexandria." Nonstop, traipsing down the nth dank passageway.  
  
"Blank," Rebecca said evenly. "Shut up."  
  
"Yes ma'am," Blank saluted. "Yes ma'am, yes ma'am indeed. Yes, O Supreme Commander. Shut up will I, shut up have I, as your lovely Lordship has commanded. You ever get any shit for being the only pretty girl in the Black Omega? You may be a soldier, but you're also a woman, and I'd be happy to show you that I'm also a ma-"  
  
Rebecca interrupted, not because Blank had touched upon a tender point or anything - she'd gotten used to it the four months they'd worked together. Rather, they'd arrived at a too-thin spiral staircase winding its way down into darkness.  
  
"I think this is it. Stay behind me, and don't fall off. I need you alive, so you can tell me what's behind doors and stuff." She was already on her way down, booted feet padding silently down the rocky steps.  
  
Blank snorted. "Oh, goody! Steps! Let's count together, shall we?" He skipped after her, chanting numbers with each footpad. "One.two.three."  
  
".two-hundred..th-thirty.eight..huff, pant two-hun-hundred.thirty.n- nine."  
  
"Two-hundred forty."  
  
It was a man's voice.  
  
Blank was reasonably sure it wasn't his own. His head jerked around in astonishment, and he caught Rebecca's blade flicker into her hand. No one.  
  
"Two-hundred forty steps, for the two-hundred and forty still-beating hearts required to invoke the Spell of Extraction." The voice came, thin as a reed with dry undertones, as if everything he saw was ironic and would continue to be. A shadow split, lengthened, refigured, and emerged as a cloaked figure with long, blond hair and maddeningly light blue eyes.  
  
Blank stared at the man, in confusion. To his right, Rebecca took a hesitant step forward, then another. Blank put out an arm, restraining her.  
  
"Hang on, Becca. Something's not right.." Blank couldn't figure it out. He was staring straight at the man.and couldn't get the faintest indication of an aura.  
  
The man laughed, a dry, scratching laugh. "Not right? I'll make things not right, my two little mice." he grated. Drawing a crystalline white sword, he launched himself forward, bringing the sword down in a towering overhand slice. Rebecca moved to parry.  
  
Not there, you fool! Left!  
  
Blank let instinct guide his katana. Off his shoulder.whipping an inch above Rebecca's head.and clashing against a hitherto unseen blade. A blade which now materialized..along with the man behind it. Blank didn't have to look.he knew that the illusion attacking Rebecca had disappeared. The man's aura was now clearly visible.a nauseating swirl of blacks, crimsons, and browns.  
  
The man's smile was benign, a master's approval of the apprentice learning a new trick. "Very good, my boy. There's hope for you yet. Allow me to deal with this.trifle." he cast a fist out, and Rebecca screamed as she was catapulted off the ground and slammed into the rocky wall. She crumpled to the ground without another sound.and Blank could see the dark red of her essence seeping out of her, onto the floor.  
  
White-fisted with rage, he hurled himself at the man and the sword, spinning entirely around in a hugely-powerful and incredibly vulnerable cross-slash. Without any warning, he found the white blade pressed against his side, scissored just enough to draw blood. That dry voice hissed painfully in his ear.  
  
"That was a mistake, my boy. The next one will be fatal. Care to try again?" the voice came. Blank felt the blade slide away from his side, leaving a thin red trail in its wake. He snarled, and snapped back to the en guarde position, fighting for the elusive calm.  
  
Why, yes, I believe I will.  
  
Their blades clashed again.  
  
  
  
  
  
Well, you can review it.or you can press the F12 key.or you eat Altoids. Those are your ONLY options.  
  
Copyright Me, by Me. All rights reserved, including that one. 


	3. Bereft

Disclaimer: All the little ones and zeroes here are copyrighted exclusively by me. If you use any of them, I'll be very, very upset.  
  
Furthermore, I made up all these characters. That game you think you played that you think was called Final Fantasy 9 is just a figment of your imagination. I control what you think. Serve the Overmind! For Chairman Yang! .Anyway.  
  
  
  
Seeing Beyond, Chap. 3  
  
  
  
I am Blank.  
  
  
  
Why did he leave me alive?  
  
Why did he skewer my Rebecca, while I stood frozen in doubt and indecision?  
  
Why did he let me go, knowing that I would have my revenge, or die trying?  
  
Who was he?  
  
  
  
Blank liked working on the airships. It was mindless, near-pointless work - tightening rivets, checking fault lines, polishing levers. La de da. But it helped him not to think.  
  
When he thought, it got ugly. Blank preferred not to think. He preferred to tighten, wipe, polish. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.  
  
After the "non-incident" (If we all deny it, it won't be true!) Blank was thoroughly debriefed by Regent Cid himself. He'd sat in an empty room, facing an impersonal looking glass wall, behind which stood an impersonal looking Regent. They'd asked him a great many questions...about Alexandria, about the Extraction Chamber, and about the man. Blank answered them to the best of his ability. And then they asked him about Rebecca...  
  
Scrub. Dry. He'd been dishonorably discharged from the Lindblum Armed Forces (He couldn't be kicked out of the Black Omega, because they didn't exist) and told never to show his face in the Grand Castle again. Blank had packed up his sword, his Disc, and his few belongings, and fled the city.  
  
That was almost a year ago. Now, after bumming a few airship rides and a healthy amount of walking, he'd found himself in Treno. The City of Eternal Night, Sin City, the City of Nobles...Blank really didn't pay attention to all that. For him, it meant work - albeit degrading work. He'd found that he had a natural instinct for working on airships..it was just something he was good at.  
  
Today, he was servicing a real looker - a sporty Eidolon-class luxury airship with a full retrofit job that left it even more disgustingly luxurious than it had been before. Its sole purpose, other than occasionally conveying some very silly people around, seemed to be to say "I'M RICHER THAN YOU! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" They were a dime a dozen in Treno. It was a place of sickening wealth.  
  
Blank was going over the luxury quarters when he happened to notice something partially protruding from underneath a couch. He bent over and retrieved the item...which looked to be a very expensively-made leather wallet. He opened it up...and whistled at what he saw.  
  
If he was reading the numbers right - and it looked like he was, the wallet was carrying something like 80,000 gil in cold hard cash. Blank, at one point in his life, had accumulated something along the lines of 2,350 gil. He'd never SEEN so much money in one place, let alone held it.  
  
Now, Blank was faced with a quandary. He very much wanted to just walk away with that wallet in his pocket, or, alternatively, buy a modest airship and fly away with it. He VERY much wanted to do that. The problem was, he was known to be the only person servicing that airship, and it'd be pretty easy for the local authorities to put two and two together. Once that happened, these Treno nobles were VERY good at getting their man captured. When you've got nearly infinite financial resources at your time - it's not too hard to light a fire under the cops' bellies.  
  
Blank stood, wracked with indecision. Finally, his love for his freedom won out, he pocketed the wallet, and went to consult his supervisor.  
  
His supervisor was an overweight, follicly-challenged man named Bartle - who'd lived in Treno his whole life and was extremely angry that it hadn't made him rich. He took out his anger on all his subordinates...so Blank wasn't too fond of him. His aura was a mixture of reds and oranges. Nevertheless, he knocked respectively on the door, got an irritated "Come in!" from the other side, and entered.  
  
Bartle looked up as he closed the door behind him, and the supervisor's face contorted in an expression of severe disgust. "Whaddya want, Blank?"  
  
Blank stood at ease. "I found a wallet on the "Blue Gecko" that's got quite a lot of money in it. I think it belongs to one of the nobles."  
  
Bartle considered, before finally holding out a hand. "Give it here. Lemme take a look."  
  
Blank handed over the wallet, and crossed his arms behind him. Bartle flipped open the wallet, took a look at its contents...and his mouth fell open.  
  
"Th-th-this is.is.eighty-thousand!" he gasped, his eyes sucking in the currency greedily. "M-m-man!"  
  
Blank nodded, evenly. "Yessir, it is. I think we should return it to its owner."  
  
Bartle finally tore his eyes away from the wallet, looking back up to Blank. It was obvious he was having the same kind of problem Blank had been having - not a moral problem, but one of simple common sense. Finally, he nodded, reluctantly.  
  
"Yeah...yeah, of course you're right," he said, the words sounding as if they were being forced out of him. "Here. You take it. Belongs to a Lord Dandulan...I bet you'll find him at the auction house. And I'll also bet he hasn't made any bids yet."  
  
Blank nodded, reclaiming the wallet. "Yessir." He beat it.  
  
  
  
Blank stood before the great double doors of the auction house, admiring the architecture. He'd never actually been inside, before - the cheapest item probably cost double his life savings. A smoothly-dressed attendant walked up, eyed his eyedisc and ragged clothing, and adjusted his attitude accordingly.  
  
"Whatcha want, boy?" as opposed to "Can I help you, sir?"  
  
Blank made a little half-bow, appropriate for the street scum that he was. "Excuse me, sir, but I have Lord Dandalun's wallet. I heard he was in here..."  
  
The attendant narrowed his eyes to slits at him, but finally nodded, and jerked a finger behind him. "Eighth row, dressed in the blue outfit. Make it snappy, stay low, and for Crystal's sake don't draw any attention to yourself."  
  
Blank nodded, and quietly slipped in through the little side entrance. He maneuvered through the corridor and emerged in the back of the auction commons, casting his eye upon the interior of the auction house for the first time.  
  
The auctioneer.  
  
  
  
Blank stood, frozen, as the man with the blonde hair turned casually on his heel. With a careless gesture, he thrust his sword deep into Rebecca's belly. Blank cried out in horror as Rebecca's eyes widened...as she spit up a little blood...as she crumpled to the floor...  
  
The man turned, and smiled.  
  
  
  
The auctioneer.  
  
The blonde hair. The careless grin. Murderer. The aura, or non-aura, was so strong he could touch it.  
  
YOU!  
  
All heads turned, including that of the auctioneer's. Blank hadn't realized that he'd spoken aloud.  
  
The auctioneer smiled. "I have forty-five thousand, from the man in the back! Forty-five thousand! Do I hear fifty-thousand?"  
  
Blank tried to work his mouth. It refused to cooperate. Next, he tried using his legs, which also seemed to be on hiatus. He stood, mouth agape, staring at the man who had murdered his Rebecca.  
  
Voices came, dimly. They all seemed to blend into one. FiftyfivethousanddoIhearsixtyyouhavetodobetterthanthatsixtyfivethousand  
  
"Sold! To the man in the blue, for seventy-five thousand gil!" A smattering of applause. Blank, moving as if in a dream, started to walk forward.  
  
His sword came into his hand. Nobles screaming, overturning chairs, rushing for exits. A few of the bolder ones drew decorative swords, shouted meaningless phrases about "honor" and "justice." None of them moved towards Blank. As he approached the podium, a Treno guard leveled his lance at him. Blank ran him through without a seconds thought, allowing his body to slide off his katana as he surged towards the auctioneer.  
  
The auctioneer still wore that same smile. Butcher and murderer. Blank's sword whipped upwards, and he slashed downwards at the smile..  
  
...and froze. His muscles strained against some invisible force as he stared into those blue eyes. The man leaned forward, and that dry whisper sounded in Blank's ear.  
  
"...you should have left well enough alone, my little rat. Now.now I will teach you of pain. I will teach you of the pain of losing your soul. I will teach you the meaning of true suffering...Blank." The whisper itself sent echoes of pain resonating through Blank's head.  
  
Blank struggled to form words. "Nothing...can...match...the pain...you've already...given me."  
  
The auctioneer threw his head back, and laughed. The pain crescendoed in Blank's head, became a cacophony of suffering.  
  
The man finally stopped. "Oh, we shall see, my little rat...we shall see..."  
  
  
  
That's it. That's chapter three. Go on! Review it! Fine! Or don't review it! That's good too! Just leave me alone! Stop poking me! 


	4. Broken

Disclaimer: droog ownz U! hahahahaHA  
  
  
  
Seeing Beyond, Chap. 4  
  
  
  
I am Blank.  
  
  
  
I am broken.  
  
My form torn asunder, my mind bereft of compassion, my soul.....  
  
Do I have a soul, anymore?  
  
Has he taken it from me?  
  
  
  
  
  
Blank hung in his chains, staring into the infinite blackness of blindness and non-comprehension. What rational coherence he'd once had was long since departed - fled the scene, to some darker recesses of his brain or to oblivion...Blank neither knew nor cared, anymore. All he knew was the man would come again, and with him would come the Pain.....the sheer, mind- numbing torture that accompanied the assault upon the soul. Blank waited for death. Blank hoped for death, when his mind was spurred to such thoughts.  
  
He idly wondered if he was already dead, and he was locked in some strange paradox and forced to relive his own death. Relive his own death...there was an oxymoron for you.  
  
Countless hours, years, or centuries passed, while he hung like that - suspended in agony, suspended in death. Sometimes he was in pain. Sometimes he wasn't. It all blurred together in his mind.  
  
  
  
The dry voice hissed in his ear. "I have a visitor for you today, my little rat...so be good and scream for him, won't you?"  
  
Blank made no reaction - reactions were beyond him. A new voice came, different in that it was alive. Albeit, alive with nightmares unspoken and alive with a delight of the horrible, but alive nontheless.  
  
The voice came. "How far along is he in the conditioning, my friend?"  
  
"He's been down here for three months.....he's one of my most advanced cases," the auctioneer's voice responded. "His sense of self has been almost completely ripped from him - he's about as close to the human "shell" I can give you at this point, Kuja."  
  
The other voice, dimly identified as Kuja, retorted. "Good. I'm still accelerating the black mage project.....I think it has the greatest overall value. But this idea definitely does have its advantages.....intelligence, emotion, and drive, to name a few."  
  
There was a pause, accompanied by rustling. When the voices came again, they came from behind Blank.  
  
"He's not very impressive looking.....are you sure he has the kind of perseverance we're looking for?" Kuja sounded doubtful, as if he'd been expecting something much more.  
  
The dry laugh came again. "Trust me, Kuja. This one tracked me down over the course of a year, all the way from Lindblum to Treno, just to get his revenge. For some bitch of his. He has the drive."  
  
Rebecca.....  
  
Blank heard Kuja laugh for the first time; and it scared him more than the auctioneer's ever had. Kuja's laugh was the epitome of cold, controlled lunacy - it sounded like he'd learned to harness his insanity for some very rational, terrible purpose.  
  
It scared the shit out of Blank.  
  
"We'll consider this one our test subject, then," Kuja said. "Tonight, we will transform....."  
  
"Blank," the auctioneer supplied.  
  
".....we will transform Blank into our very own pet demon." Kuja finished.  
  
There was a pause, and it sounded as if the two men were stepping back.  
  
Kuja's voice came again, softly. "And then.....we will create an army of them."  
  
And he laughed.....again.....and again.....  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
So it's shorter than the other chapters. What? What're you gonna do? You want some of this? You want the whole thing?  
  
I guess you can review it.....reviewing is good.....or, I guess, you could eat Goldfish.....Goldfish are good..... 


	5. Born

Square pretends to own these characters, but they're obvious ripoffs from the hit 60's TV show How the West was Won.  
  
Seeing Beyond, Chap. 5  
  
I am Blank.  
  
My will is no longer my own.  
  
Rather, my consciousness lurks in the shadows while a demon guides my actions. I am a horrified observer to my own actions.  
  
Do I exist, at this point? How can one exist in this state?  
  
Kuja has no qualms about massacring his own troops, Blank reflected grimly, watching another wave of black mages charge, heroically, suicidally. His body, manipulated by the demon, spun effortlessly betwixt the onrushing spells and unleashed a flurry of his own, in return. The potent lightning tendrils snaked their way through the magi ranks, scissoring through countless pointy-hats and purple robes. Blank would've mourned the fading yellow eyes if he could, but he was long past such trite feelings. Every day, he felt his humanity slipping further and further away from him, and he felt nothing but dim indifference for the devastated guinea pigs that were the black mages.  
  
It had been a month and a half, more or less, since Kuja had taken his battered body deep into the heart of Alexandria castle, cackled mystical words and drew arcane symbols in the air, and performed the Demon Summoning. A month and a half since Blank had lost his persona to the demon who had awakened inside of him. A month and a half since Blank had lost his tattered soul.  
  
Blank remembered it all too well. Lying helpless, blankly terrified, on the monstrous stone altar that dominated the damp chamber. Words muttered in the air, words which seemed to reverberate throughout his very essence and touch nerves he hadn't known existed. The dark energy, lancing from Kuja's hands, coursing through him. The sudden awareness that he was no longer alone in his human shell, but that another soul now grappled with his own for dominance. The firebursts of pain and.....strange pleasure, as he was violated in the most profound of ways. And, finally, the overwhelming emptiness as the demon shut his consciousness off, placed his sense of self in an isolated box and reduced him to the broken observer he was.  
  
Since then, he'd watched the fires of Hell through the demon's eyes, smelt the sulfuric stench of destruction through the demon's nose, felt the gouts of sticky blood wash across the demon's fingers. Control he'd lost, sensory perception he had not. He'd borne witness to countless horrific acts committed in his own name, by his own person. He was, in short, a man constantly confronted with Hell.  
  
Kuja had watched his progress with growing delight. It was apparent that his pet demon was exceeding his greatest expectations. He'd stop by, from time to time, to check on Blank's blossoming aptitude and prowess for Murder, Death, and Destruction(TM). The auctioneer handled his "training" directly, but Kuja was really in control. Today, Kuja had stopped by to watch Blank take on an entire battalion of his newest black mages, and seemed delighted when they were all dead.  
  
"The way he moves, it's almost like he's dancing," Kuja confided, rubbing his hands gleefully. "It's a veritable dance of death...a Black Waltz, if you will."  
  
The auctioneer nodded, his dead voice permeating the air. "His potential has been fully met, I believe...my little rat is all grown up. He's yours to play with now, Kuja." His voice carried a hint of regret, as if he was sorry to see Blank go.  
  
Kuja nodded, casting eyes upon Blank. The demon inside of him waited passively, patiently, for his next command.  
  
The auctioneer. "What will you do with him?"  
  
Kuja smiled. "One of the Queen's counselors in Alexandria is.....opposed.....to my rather aggressive plans. Unfortunately, she still places some stock in his counsel. This vexes me terribly, and I am not a man to be vexed. Our Black Waltz here will.....deal with him." Kuja languished over the word "deal."  
  
"So you'll have him killed, then?" the auctioneer asked.  
  
"Killed?" Kuja looked vaguely shocked. "Why, no. Nothing of the like. That would be an incomplete solution, because the next advisor might be just as non-violent as this one. No, the better way to do it would be to bend this one to our will."  
  
"How?"  
  
"He has a wife, and two daughters," Kuja said meaningfully.  
  
The auctioneer nodded, grinning. Abruptly, he decided that wasn't enough, and broke into laughter. Kuja joined him, and the duo of voices spiraled upwards, sending ripples of pain through Blank's consciousness. He'd have closed his ears to the assault if he could, but the demon seemed to relish the sound, and Blank was forced to endure it. Louder, and louder, and louder....  
  
The demon briefly silhouetted the large window, before hopping in and landing noiselessly. The thick Burmecian carpet made keeping silent a breeze, and the demon crept through the arched doorway and into the main hall of Counselor Gravmire's Alexandria residence. Marble glistened, wood gleamed, and relentless steps took the demon across the balcony and into the west wing - the children's room.  
  
One of the children was an angelic eight, her long hair spread across the pillow as she slumbered in bed. The other was four, fists tightly clenched as she lay curled up in her crib. Both snored softly, blissfully unaware of the doom that now hovered above them. A doom which drew a wickedly curved knife and gently placed it at the older girl's throat. A quick flick of his wrist would incise the fatal wound, leaving only a soundless scream in its wake. Blood would spurt, and life would drain away before his very eyes. The demon smiled.....  
  
.....And froze. From somewhere within his faded consciousness, Blank found the strength to rebel against his possessor. With a ferocious strength of will wrenched from the horror of this final indignity, Blank battled for his body, his self, and his soul.  
  
It was a war unlike Gaia had ever known. Every feature, limb, and sense was a battleground. Blank would regain control of his arms, only to lose his legs. He would regain his hearing only to lose his touch. Maniacal, distorted expressions flitted across his face, his limbs jerked spasmodically, and still the battle raged on.  
  
Blank felt the demon winning. It was simply too powerful, too fully developed after six weeks of nurturing. Now it was confident, assertive, and too much for Blank to overcome. Blank felt his control slipping.....  
  
.....And his sight fell upon the girl. So innocent. So undeserving of the fate that awaited her. A fate that would come to pass unless he, Blank, did something. With newfound rage and aggression, he renewed his assault. His mouth opened in an embattled cry.  
  
"I am....."  
  
Blank's back arched, his arms outstretched, and he roared his defiance to the ceiling.  
  
".....a man!!!"  
  
And, in the darkened bedroom, to the accompaniment of two crying little girls, Blank made the final stand for his soul.  
  
That's right. It's me. I'm back, and like Bruce Willis, it's with a vengeance. The last few months have been spent in deep sabbatical. Either that, or I was drinking Kool-Aid. Anyway, go ahead, read it, review it, print it out and spit on it! Or don't! See if I care! Just be real, okay? 


	6. Between

I own that little doll with the red ball on his head. Yeah that one. Square can have the rest.  
  
Seeing Beyond, Chap. 6  
  
I am Blank.  
  
I am only myself.  
  
It could be likened to a cancer, the demon inside of him. Once beaten, it was not vanquished, to spiral away into the mists of time, gone forever. Rather, it went into a sort of remission, languishing inside of him – always there. Always whispering to him, subversive, manipulative whispers...  
  
Kill him...kill her...destroy...endure...  
  
But it was no longer in control. Blank was in control. Admittedly it was a tenuous control, a constant struggle for dominance, but it was a battle he was prepared to fight, for the rest of his life, if need be. He'd seen the light at the end of the tunnel, and would struggle towards it until the end of his days.  
  
The world had changed, and he had changed with it. Peace abounded throughout the continent, trade had recommenced between the three Great Powers, and Blank had been able to find a job piloting a cargo hauler for Cid's mighty fleet. He had once again been returned to the clouds where he belonged – such a contrast to the dark dungeon where he had spent the worst centuries of his life. The demon hated flying, he hated the sun. Blank took grim satisfaction in the internal writhings it went through every time the ship took off – it was one of the few revenges afforded to him.  
  
He sun-bathed a lot. He got a kick out of that, too.  
  
It was a nice segment of his life. He liked his job, he liked himself, he liked his atmosphere. He liked the long, lazy afternoons he had just to lay around on the deck and watch the sky, or the mountains, or the many airships scampering for position as they headed through South Gate. He liked timing himself on the Alexandria-Lindblum-Burmecia run...yes, on the whole, it was all he could ask for.  
  
And inside, the demon raged.  
  
One day, in between jobs, he'd been kicking back in one of the twenty-six cafes that permeated Lindblum Grand Castle, just enjoying a good cup of coffee and doing a bit of people watching. Rather unexpectedly, a man sat himself at his table, setting his own cup down – although his contained beer. The man was brawny, wore a blue bandana, and was ugly as hell.  
  
Blank flicked both eyes that way. "Can I help you?"  
  
"Yeah, maybe." The man was non-committal.  
  
Blank waited for an elaboration, but none was forthcoming. The guy just sat there, downing the beer, watching him. It was kinda freaky, when you got right down to it.  
  
Finally, Blank was goaded to speak. "...How?"  
  
"We've been watching you," the man explained. "We think you show potential."  
  
"We?" Blank snorted. "Is this the royal we? The proverbial we?"  
  
The man refused to be goaded. "A couple of friends and me, actually. We run a sort of gang."  
  
Blank threw back his head and laughed. It was all just to much, really...a gang? What was he, in third grade? "Do we get a secret handshake?"  
  
Now the man showed some signs of anger, rising out of his chair. "Look, if you can't take me seriously, then you're out. I'm trying to let you in on a really sweet deal, here, but you seem to be happier making smart remarks. Now, do I walk out that door, or do you shut up and listen?"  
  
Blank subsided, grinning. He waved for the man to continue.  
  
"All right," the man said, sitting. "Listen up. We're a con group, if you will. We smuggle, we steal, but we do it with flair. And we're damn good at what we do. Everybody gets paid, and paid well...but we've been needing an airship pilot for quite a while, now. We checked around, and you seem to be the man for the guy. You did a little Special Forces work for Lindblum, didn't you?"  
  
Now Blank was not grinning. "How the hell...?" NO one was supposed to know that. Hell, he wasn't supposed to know it himself. He was supposed to have "forgotten" it, or something.  
  
The man smiled. "I told you, we're good at what we do. We know more than you'd think, buddy." He waved the waitress over with a positively horrific smile, paid his tab, and got to his feet. "Listen up. We're headquartered over in the Theater District, at this address." He handed Blank a little slip of paper.  
  
He nodded to Blank. "Think about it, buddy-boy. If you're interested, come by tomorrow at eight A.M. sharp, to meet the boss and the crew. If not, no hard feelings." He extended a hand, which Blank neglected to shake. He shrugged, instead, and headed for the door.  
  
Blank stirred. "Hey."  
  
The man turned. "Yeah?"  
  
Blank lifted his chin at him. "What's your name?"  
  
"Marcus." And he was gone, striding purposefully out the door.  
  
The whole encounter had Blank floored. How did Marcus know about his black Omega days? And how the hell had he been "watching" Blank? It wasn't like Blank sat around in a room with white walls and video cameras...no, something was definitely up. Blank wasn't sure if he liked it, but at least it was something new. Idyllic stretches of monotony aren't bad, but they can drag on.  
  
Blank hopped to his feet, and paid his bills. He would meet with Marcus tomorrow, and his boss, and his "gang." He would agree to join them, because he'd been too long by himself. And because he needed something to do.  
  
Walking through the door, Blank instinctively knew he was heading into another life.  
  
Shit, he thought, not another one.  
  
  
  
(Just when you thought I'd vanished into the annals of history, or maybe you thought I'd gone to prison...but whatever you thought, you haven't gotten rid of me yet. Those three letterbombs weren't enough. You'll have to try harder! HARDER, I say!) 


	7. Brothers

Well, after appraising my current situation, I can say with some authority that I DON'T own Squaresoft. I do, however, own Old Navy Inc., just in case you were wondering.  
  
  
  
Seeing Beyond, Chap. 7  
  
I am Blank.  
  
  
  
It had started out just like any other day.  
  
Up at six o' clock, yawn, brush teeth, shuffle off to get breakfast, check in with Baku to see if there were any new items on the agenda, then the lazy walk around Lindblum, checking in with "suppliers," making "requests," granting "favors," and generally just doing a hell of a lot in quotation marks. Then, if there was a jaunt that day, the easy stroll down to the airship docks, where he hopped aboard, made sure things were in order, and took off. Guns to Burmecia, dirty magazines to Alexandria, even dirtier magazines to Treno, and the dirtiest magazines of all went to Dali. Apparently those village folks didn't have a lot of entertainment, but anyhoo.  
  
Today was semi-special, his cargo was a load of jewels destined straight for Alexandria Castle. Blank had never been able to figure out the appeal in jewelry, you bought it and watched it sparkle...? And you paid thousands of gil for this? A jewel couldn't feed a dying man, couldn't sing a lullaby to a crying child, and sure as hell couldn't provide any form of sexual relief. Except...no, Blank chose not to think about that.  
  
But he was taking the damn things to Alexandria. Cinna had told him, under the table, that Baku'd be furious if he screwed this one up, 'cause someone VERY high up in the Alexandrian hierarchy had ordered 'em. Blank had promised not to crash into any mountains or commit hari-kari on the way, and Cinna had laughed and told him to watch out for little green men.  
  
Cinna was weird.  
  
But, true to form, Blank had awoken as the correct time, went through his routine, and checked in with The Boss. After a few reminders to be careful, a few stern remonstrances regarding his previous behavior, and a few slaps on the back, Blank exited the Tantalus HQ and began the long, but enjoyable, walk to the docks. He bantered with the ticket agent at the station, bantered some more with the dockmaster, and was finally airborne, shooting out of one of the castle's many airship niches. He quickly achieved cruising altitude, laid in his course, and sat back to watch the view that pleased him most – the blue sky above, the white clouds below. Blank always felt he'd entered a new world when he broke the cloud level, a world free from sin, a world free from anger, a world-...what the hell was THAT?!  
  
Whatever the hell THAT was, it was coming straight at him, a black blob against a white backdrop, trailing blue fire in its wake. At first Blank thought it was some sort of missile, and panicked, and then when he realized it was actually alive, he continued to panic. The...thing executed a flawless turn and flip, dropped from about a hundred yards above the airship, and landed squarely on the deck. Blank looked at it, and felt his jaw leaden, and his soul plummet.  
  
The thing was a cloak, a hat, and a pair of red eyes. Everything else was Shadow. Even so, Blank could feel the thing's essence...and it reverberated strangely with his own. He felt the mute call of the shadow, beckoning to him, and he was fain to answer.  
  
"My.....brother.....," the thing began, gutturally. "I have.....been searching for you.....for a long, long time." The thing was horrific to hear. It sounded like the devil with laryngitis. Blank was almost too frightened to respond, but respond he did.....?  
  
I'm not your brother.  
  
"I am glad.....you have found me...brother. Too long as this.....pathetic HUMAN ensnared me within his.....pitiful mind."  
  
Blank railed, screamed, cursed, swore. The control he'd maintained lo these many months had disintegrated in a flash, and once again Blank felt himself reduced to observer status.  
  
I'm not your brother! He screamed it, silently.  
  
The thing stretched out its shadow-hands. "The master has.....great plans for you, my brother. From you...he hopes to learn. Many.....many things." The demon languished over the words, obviously enjoying the affect it was having on his invisible prey.  
  
Blank heard himself speaking. "I will do.....all that the master commands.....brother. I am...at his disposal." No, I'm NOT! Blank would've wept, had he been able.  
  
The demon smiled. It wasn't a visible thing, it had no mouth to smile with. But Blank felt that smile, felt it swimming down through what remained of his soul. He'd been found, only to be lost again.....and this time, it seemed as if he'd be lost for good. Blank lacked the strength to resist, not again, not this time. Not with the other one so near. Not with evil permeating the air, the way it did.  
  
The demon smiled. Blank died a little bit more. "Come.....with me," it said. "We must...return to our master." It winged into flight, not looking back – so assured was it of its control.  
  
And with good reason, too. Without a second's hesitation, Blank felt himself lifting into the air, carried on the soul of a devil, once again returning to the man who was his nightmare. Down.....down.....down.....he glimpsed the sky, one last time, before he was once again plunged into eternal Night.  
  
  
  
(Lookit that, two chapters in less than a week. If you think I deserve something, I'd love some oatmeal cookies. Yeah! Go ahead! Review it! I dare ya! Or, you know what? Don't! Haha! Just pick one and go with it, man! Just be cool!)  
  
(This whole world is copyrighted to me, circa 2002. All rights reserved.) 


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